


another one bites the dust

by helsinkibaby



Category: Luke Cage (TV)
Genre: Canon Het Relationship, Community: comment_fic, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8211509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Another one of Luke's hoodies gets destroyed.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Theme: female characters  
> Prompt: any, any het relationship, clothes shopping

"Another one?" 

Luke picks his hoodie up off the bed and holds it up to the light, examining the various shades of red splashed across it. He looks across the room, meets a bathrobe-clad Claire's eyes in the mirror as she brushes her hair, still damp from the shower. She has the grace to at least look vaguely apologetic, even if they both know he's not as mad as he's letting on. 

"It was a bad one," she says but he already knows that, both from the volume of the blood and the tired, strained look in her eyes. She's looks like a woman who's battled death and won, but who also didn't realise how much it would cost her. Which is pretty much Claire all over, has been for as long as he's known her. 

It's one of the many things he loves about her. 

"Obviously." He drops the hoodie down on the floor, knowing that the only place it's going is the trash. Some of his hoodies have been rescued, but all of those have been dark in colour. This one, a pale grey, doesn't stand a chance. "You couldn't have... Oh, I don't know... taken it off first?" 

Her hand stills and she looks over her shoulder. Her lips are curved in a smile, her eyes bright with a sudden light he knows all too well. "I wasn't wearing anything underneath," she tells him and yes, that does exactly what she knew it would, stops him in his tracks. 

Hey, he's only human. 

When he's able to frame a sentence again, she's looking back into the mirror, almost finished with her hair and he comes up behind her, stands close and breathes deep. "This is what I get for falling for the Angel of Harlem."

She wrinkles her nose. "I hate that name. We need to start a better one." 

He happens to think it's fairly apt but knows better than to say. "My hoodies used to get destroyed by bullets," he says, continuing his train of thought. "Now it's you and other people's blood." He looks down at her, lifts an eyebrow. "They do this thing now, where they make them for women? They have whole rows of them, whole shops even... we should take you clothes shopping, first thing tomorrow morning."

He's joking but only half and she lays down the hairbrush, turning so that she can face him, slipping her arms around his waist. She leans back and looks up at him, gives him that smile of hers and he can feel his straight faced facade beginning to crack. 

"I like wearing your hoodies," she tells him and he snorts. 

"You're like ninety pounds soaking wet." He exaggerates because it sounds good and she rolls her eyes. "What's a double-x-l doing on your skinny self but falling off?" 

She shrugs one shoulder. "They're warm," she says. "Comfortable." Another shrug and she looks down, a slight flush coming to her cheeks. Which intrigues him, because he knows Claire, and that's not what she looks like when they're flirting. That's what she looks like when she wants to say something sentimental but she's afraid he's going to give her shit for it. 

He waits her out, knowing she'll cave eventually. "Besides, they smell like you," she finally admits and the fairly rare occurrence of sentiment from her makes him smile - it's usually him who pulls out lines like that. 

"Now who's corny?" he asks but he brings his hands down low across the curve of her ass as he says it, bringing their lower bodies into closer contact. 

Claire rolls her eyes again. "You," she retorts. "Always." Her hands slide up across the muscles of his back, pulling up his t-shirt as they go. 

"What, you want to steal this too?" he quips as he takes it off over his head, but then his hands go to the tie of her robe and she shakes her head, like she's not interested in wearing his clothes or her clothes or any new clothes he might buy her. 

And as Luke pulls her close, he thinks that suits him just fine.


End file.
